Beyond the Stars
by Jackson61004
Summary: The crew of the Federation starship U.S.S. Enterprise is transported back in time to the year 2009 in Washington, D.C., where they are taken captive by time pirates. The NCIS specialized team is led to the crew’s rescue when following a case. After rescuing the Federation crew they team up to take down the time pirates and discover a way home. Warning: torture, semi-strong language
1. Prologue

"Sir, the part that we need is on the NCC-1701 U.S.S. Enterprise at Stardate 2259.310." The speaker was wearing a bright yellow hoodie with a set of Pikachu ears attached to the hood. The childish humor that could be found in the article of clothing did not match with the darker intent of its wearer and the organization they worked with.

"Bring them through, please," a deep voice ordered. It sounded as though the person had swallowed gravel repeatedly and then inhaled smoke.

Pikachu-Hoodie nodded before typing commands into the computer and then carrying the laptop outside into the deep night. They also carried with them a slightly large device. It was round in shape and a deep grey in color. Several buttons and switches for operation were on the side. Pikachu then pressed a few buttons, flipped a switch, and pressed a key on their computer before standing back. Pikachu placed a heavy-duty gas mask over their head and watched as the U.S.S. Enterprise formed in the large field. They set in coordinates and then pressed a button to beam the people they had targeted onto the grass in front of them. Pikachu watched as several people were beamed in front of them. They pressed a button and watched as a white gas surrounded the people, knocking them out before they could spot the hooded person.

Despite the success in capture, Pikachu watched as the Enterprise began to leave. They tried desperately to stop it, but were unable to, watching in fury as the starship took off and then warped away to who knows where. With a shrill whistle, Pikachu called several men to help them take the prisoners in. Despite the loss of the starship, they would soon coerce how to access the part they needed from the Captain, but first, the command of this group had a small score to settle while doing this…coercion.

However, this perfect plan was interrupted by a loud shout of "Hey! What do you think you're doing!" Coming from the side. Pikachu turned and saw a woman charging toward them, having noticed the fact that these men were carrying unconscious people in the dark, which was mighty suspicious to her. Pikachu sighed in annoyance and pulled a phaser out from their hip holster. They made sure it was on kill and fired a single shot, their aim true. The woman immediately went down.

"You!" Pikachu barked, turning toward a man who gulped slightly and was relatively new to this whole thing, "Dispose of the body."

The man nodded and headed toward the now deceased woman. Pikachu turned back and watched as they carried the Starfleet officers into the building.

 **Hey all! This is my first story, and I promise the next chapters are longer. I already have the story finished and will be posting once a week with the new chapters. Make sure to let me know of any grammatical or spelling errors. I'm always open to some constructive criticism, just not unnecessary flames. I know that the characters may be slightly OOC coming up, but it isn't too bad I think. If you know of any improvements I can make, then let me know! This is the only chapter that doesn't exceed more than a page. In this story, Admiral Pike _is_ alive, despite it being post-Into Darkness. I loved him as a character and a father figure for Kirk, and I hated that they killed him off. Also, I always write Kirk as a badass, because that's my favorite characterization of him. I hope you all liked the first sneak peak! And I'll see you next week (Hehe, I made a rhyme) with the new chapter! Also, congratulations to those who actually read the whole author's note, you get pie and cookies! **


	2. Chapter 1 — Captured

When Kirk came to, he realized that this was not his bed, nor was it a bed of any kind. He kept his eyes closed as he documented his surroundings, the many experiences of being captured previously helping him know what to do. He was being held painfully upright by chains that were attached to the ceiling, putting strain on his shoulders. He quickly found his footing though he had to stand on his tippy toes to be able to reach and alleviate the stress. There was no sound of wind blowing in or out of the area, but a slight breeze tickled his stomach and face. The pungent odor of iron clogged his nose, telling him that this place was covered in long-since dried blood. He could hear the clanks of other chains as well and realized that he was not the only one that had been taken. He remembered telling the Beta shift pilot to get the ship the hell out of there and wait for his message before trying anything.

When the captain opened his eyes he saw exactly what he feared: Commander Spock, Lieutenants Uhura and Sulu, Ensign Chekov, and Lieutenant Commanders Scott and McCoy (the latter was also a doctor) were all in similar positions, though they were slumped on the ground. Most were in the process of regaining consciousness. "Is everybody up?" Kirk asked gently, not favorable to the idea that he might alert their captors.

Once he heard the affirmative from all of his crew mates he sighed, realizing that none of them were injured (aside from the strain on his shoulders, but he wasn't going to mention that). "Captain, have you any idea what circumstances led to this unfavorable outcome?" Spock queried.

"Honestly, Spock, I have no idea. Last thing I remember we were on our way to the Laurentian system and then the whole ship was beamed onto a field. I barely said anything before we were all beamed and then promptly gassed upon arrival. Anybody have any ideas on how to escape?"

Before that discussion could get any further, the door to their cell swung open and the lights blazed on. A tall, lithe man entered the cell with a manic grin lighting up his angular face. Behind him trailed a woman with auburn hair and a stony expression. The man looked at each of them before clearing his throat, "Morning, gentlemen, lady. Let's get down to business. Your ship has something I need, and I want you, Captain Kirk, to recall the ship so that I can take that part. Okay?"

Kirk laughed, "You're crazy, and I will do no such thing. Why don't you let us go before the whole 'Fleet cracks down on your ass."

"I'm afraid that you are far out of reach of your dear Federation, so no help will be coming. Of course, you could always make it so that you do not need that help by giving me the access codes to the Enterprise and allowing me the part I need."

"Nope," Kirk sounded smug, but he was actually quite worried. Not for himself, no, he knew he could handle most anything they threw at him, but his crew could not. They could probably handle more than the average civilian, but he didn't want them to have to handle even that much.

The man looked disappointed, but his tone showed his happiness at the answer, "Very well then, I suppose I have no choice. Arvada, I think you know what to do. I'll leave you to it." The man turned on his heel and left the room, leaving them with the woman. She whistled and two security guards joined her as she took Kirk down from the chains, immediately cuffing his wrists behind his back.

"Now wait just a minute, lady, what exactly are you doing!" Bones growled, straining against his bonds. Kirk offered him a minuet smile of reassurance, but it did nothing other than the opposite of its purpose.

"Let him go!" Uhura yelled. All of the crew was straining against the chains that prevented them from going to their friend's aid.

The woman offered no words and didn't even acknowledge them. Instead, she led the captain out the door, the two guards closing it behind them. Kirk's friends watched helplessly, struggling fruitlessly to escape and help.

 **Just a friendly little line break... going about their business... do-do-do... :)**

As the woman marched them down the hall and into a room, Kirk grinned cheekily, "Usually I'm on a bed when the handcuffs come out. And you could at least let me take you to dinner first."

If the woman heard him, she gave no sign. Instead, she chained him to the ceiling again, this time with his feet only a little closer to the ground. She made sure he was secure before nodding to the security people, who were dressed in a clichéd black outfit. They left the room and stood outside. The captain watched as the woman—Arvada—grabbed a whip that had multiple tendrils, all with tiny barbs attached to give maximum damaged. She grabbed a dagger and tore his shirt off, not bothering to watch the skin, which gave him several bleeding lacerations.

"Give us the security codes to the Enterprise," she demanded.

"Screw you," Kirk spat. The woman stood behind him and raised her arm, snapping it down with the whip following. Kirk's back exploded in pain, but he managed to dissociate from it. She paused, as though to wait for his answer, "James T. Kirk, Captain—" she whipped him again. "Captain of the Federation starship U.S.S. Enterprise—" another crack of the whip and his back was torn open even more. "Serial number Sierra-Charlie-nine-three—" Another lash. "seven-dash-zero-one-seven-Charlie-Echo-Charlie—" She lashed him again and he started from the top.

This went on for a while, and Kirk used the continued mantra to help dissociate from the pain. While it wasn't the worst he had had, it was still very unpleasant. He lost count around twenty, but he figured it was somewhere around thirty lashes when she stopped. His back was torn to shreds and was bleeding in pools on the ground. The woman went back to her table of tools and set down the whip. She looked at him, "One more chance, tell me the security codes to your starship."

"Piss off," Kirk gasped. The woman grinned with a feral craze and picked up a knife. The next thing Kirk knew, said knife was buried in his leg. Just looking at it he knew that it had only severed a few muscles, nothing important like an artery, but it still hurt like a bitch. The unexpectedness caused the captain to cry out loudly in surprise rather than pain. The woman smirked, showing him the first sign of emotion during the entire experience. She turned and walked out of the room, leaving him hanging—quite literally, too.

Kirk gasped when he attempted to put any pressure on the leg, and decided it had been foolish to even try. He was surprised when a meek looking person in a Pikachu hoodie came and stood behind him. He tensed, prepared for another beating, but realized that the uncomfortable sensation was not that of a torture device (though when with Bones after one of the many failed away missions one could argue differently), rather a dermal regenerator. He felt his back scab over and heal half of the rest of the way, but Pikachu-hoodie stopped before it was complete. They moved to his leg and yanked out the knife, not listening to his sharp intake of breath, and did the same, only allowing it to heal about three quarters of the way.

The whole time they were there, they said nothing. Immediately after finishing they left before Kirk could ask any questions. He looked around the room and then up at his restraints, attempting to ascertain any possible routes of escape. To his disappointment he realized he could not find any. His head sagged slightly as he allowed himself a moment's reprieve from the pain, attempting to regain his thoughts. As long as he was the one taking the beating he was fine. It was when the leader would inevitably get impatient and attempt to break him by harming a member of his crew that he worried about. He knew he wouldn't be able to fight against that.

With that in mind, he steeled himself for what was to come and began the long wait until morning.

 **Bystander: Oh look! Another line break! Other Bystander: What do you mean?! Wasn't there one just a little bit ago!**

The crew waited in tense silence after their captain and friend had been led off. The winced when they heard the crack of a whip. When they heard it again they began to scream and shout profanities at those guarding them, yanking against their bonds and aggravating their wrists. Spock tugged and realized that though they had attempted to make the chains Vulcan-proof, it would only take him a day or two more to break through the chains, and an even shorter amount of time for the others since he felt they would have only prepared the stronger chains for himself, despite the illogical assumption.

With every crack! and snap! of the whip they waited with bated breath to hear their captain cry out. However, to the surprise of most everyone except McCoy, they were startled and slightly scared to have not heard any sort of response from the man. It seemed, however, that they had thought too soon, as no more than a couple of minutes later a muted shout echoed through the hallway toward them. This made them struggle even more. "We need ta save the Cap'n," Scotty gasped.

"I concur." Spock was still tugging little by little. "Within approximately one point two more days I should be able to sever my restraints, and then break yours. After that we must locate our supplies and then escape."

"Good, 'cause when we get out I'm going to raze this place to the ground," Uhura growled. Her eyes were watering in sympathy for her captain.

"I also believe that we must all rest so that we are strong enough to offer assistance to the captain when the time arrives. I will take first watch while you all attempt to obtain rest."

McCoy looked like he was going to protest, but then realized that the hobgoblin was right. With a small amount of grumbling he sat back against the cell walls and closed his eyes. It took a while, but sleep finally came for him and the rest of the crew.

 **Alright, that was the next chapter. I hope you all liked it, because it was fun to write. How am I doing so far? Let me know by leaving a review and maybe... Oh, I don't know? Am I deserving enough to ask for a favorite/follow yet? *rubs chin philosophically***


	3. Chapter 2 — Meet NCIS

**Please see the Author's Note at the end! It's very important! :)**

Elsewhere, a specialized team was enjoying themselves that morning. It was sunny and warm, and they were laughing at something the Senior

Special Agent had done.

"Nicely done, Tony, I didn't know you could be such a clutz," Timothy "Tim" McGee grinned.

"Shove off, Probie," Anthony "Tony" DiNozzo grumbled.

"I find it quite funny," Ziva smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Tony grumbled, though he too was smiling. He opened his mouth to say something else but was beaten by his boss, Jethro Gibbs walking in.

"We've got a case, suit up," was all he said, grabbing his stuff and walking toward the elevator. The rest of his team quickly followed.

After being suitably disgruntled by Gibbs' driving they arrived at the scene, which was surrounded by the usual yellow tape and had a few of the local PD crawling around the scene. The assigned case officer saw them and walked over.

"Hi, I guess you guys are the team NCIS sent, right? I'm Detective Hardison. The vic was discovered around nine hundred hours. It wasn't a robbery, because she has all her wallet and a few other things of value on her. She was a Lieutenant named Alya Graham."

The team was already getting their gloves on, and McGee had pulled out his camera. DiNozzo had the evidence markers and bags, and Ziva had a few as well. A few minutes later the ME van pulled up, with Ducky and Palmer inside.

McGee had gone to take pictures of Alya. She had been slouched up against the wall of an alleyway, only a few feet away from a dumpster. Tony was marking the things around him and placing them in a bag, but he had a feeling that she hadn't been killed here. Ducky and Palmer came up after McGee was done and examined the body.

After a few minutes more spent with the detective, Gibbs walked over, "What can you tell me, Duck?"

"Nothing much, I'm afraid. I can't say I've ever seen a wound like this, and I've seen many odd wounds in my time. Why, there was this one poor soul who—"

"Duck,"Gibbs reminded.

"Ah, right. Anyway, I have never seen anything like this. It seems to be a mix of a taser and blowtorch, but not quite. Aside from that I can't say much, other than a lack of defensive wounds, so she was most likely either killed from afar or she knew her attacker. I do, however, believe that she did not meet her untimely demise here. The marks on her heels show that she was dragged, and they most likely have a few things for Ms. Sciuto to examine. The rumples around her sleeves also show that was where she was picked up from."

"Alright, get her back to the examining room."

"Indeed, let us depart, Mr. Palmer," Ducky declared. Palmer was already placing Graham in a body bag and onto the medical gurney to be placed in the van.

After getting back to the office, Abby was given her evidence and Ducky continued to examine the body. Tony and Ziva worked on researching the Lieutenant with McGee. "What can you tell me?" Gibbs asked after a little bit.

"Well," Ziva started, pulling up a profile on the large screen. "Lieutenant Alya Graham was twenty six years old. She was in the NAVY for about five years, and her Commanding Officer was one Jackson Tallstead."

"Alya didn't have any family left, aside from a fiancée. They were set to get married in late November. Fiancée's name was Nyssa Nystrom. They lived together in this quaint townhouse out in the suburbs." Tony pressed a button on the remote to the big screen, which pulled up a small house surrounding by gardening and a few trees.

"Alya had a few friends in the NAVY, though most of them are currently out at sea. The only one that is still here is Lieutenant Ashtyn Lee," McGee finished.

"Tony, you and I—"

"Tallstead, got it."

"McGee—"

"I've got Lee," McGee finished.

"Ziva—"

"Fiancée." Ziva was halfway to her desk to grab her things.

"Good, get going. Come on DiNozzo," Gibbs ordered, already part way to the elevator.

"On your six, boss!" Tony confirmed.

Upon arrival to the base that Tallstead was currently stationed on, Gibbs and Tony were led to the Captain's office. It was rather drab, with light, cappuccino colored walls bare of any pictures, yet covered in many commendations. The desk was neat and orderly, the pencils all arranged next to each other and the computer off to the side. "NCIS Special Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo here to see you, sir," the young Ensign introduced.

"Thank you, Kimberly. Please, come in." Tallstead clicked the mouse to his computer and then focused on the two agents in his office, leaning forward with his hands clasped.

"Captain Tallstead, we have been informed that Lieutenant Alya Graham was under your command?" DiNozzo started.

"Yes, she is. What happened?" Tallstead's eyebrows were just barely scrunched in concern and he sat up straighter while still leaning forward slightly.

"She was found dead this morning. Is there anyone you know that would want her dead?" Gibbs asked.

Tallstead took a second. "Dead?" He echoed faintly. "I—I'm sorry, but I don't. Everyone loved Alya. She… she was often the shoulder that people cried on… I… can't believe she's dead." He shook his head as though to clear it. "I'm sorry, but no, there isn't anyone I can think of that would want her dead."

"Thank you for your time, if you have anything more that you remember…" DiNozzo trailed off.

Tallstead nodded, "I'll let you know."

Gibbs and Tony stood up and left. "He wasn't hiding anything," Tony said. Gibbs nodded. They were going to go back to the office and wait for any information from the others.

McGee knocked on the oak brown door to apartment 6C. A short, Asian-American woman opened the door, her longer hair up in a high ponytail. "Can I help you?"

"Lieutenant Lee?" McGee opened, the woman nodded slowly. "Special Agent McGee, NCIS, I'm here to ask a few questions."

"Oh, uh… please, come in." Lee stepped back to allow him to enter. She waved him toward the sofa and chair area and he sat down. "Water? Tea?"

"Uh… Water is good."

Lee walked toward the open kitchen area and grabbed a cup. She got him and herself water before sitting down. "What is this about?"

"You were friends with Lieutenant Alya Graham, correct?"

A sharp intake of breath, and a worried voice replied, "Yes, that's right. Why? Is something wrong?"

"I'm sorry to say, but she's been killed," McGee said softly.

Lee gasped and slouched back into the chair. She blinked slowly and drew in a long breath, "How?" She whispered.

"We're not quite sure yet, but that's what we're working on finding out. Is there anything you can tell me about her?"

"It couldn't have been anyone we knew, because everyone loved her. She was… she was a real underdog. She stuck up for the little people and knew what people needed. The—the thing that most likely happened was she tried to help someone and finally paid the price. She… was—was it quick?" Lee sobbed slightly.

"As far as we can tell, yes." McGee pulled out a Kleenex that he always kept with him and offered it to her.

"We were scheduled to ship out in a month, but we would be back in time for the wedding. I was going to be the maid of honor… Alya, she, um… she went on a jog, every morning at about O five hundred hours. I don't know the exact route she would take, but her fiancée would. I'm sorry, I don't know much else. I can… I can call you if I remember anything?" Lee tried.

McGee nodded and handed her his card, "Call me if you think you have anything else. I'm sorry for your loss."

Lee nodded mutely, her face blank from shock. McGee stood up and walked out the door, leaving her to think everything over.

Ziva knocked briefly on the white door to the country house. It was opened by a muscular woman with unruly red hair pulled back, wearing a sky blue tank top and light grey sweatpants. Her feet were covered in a pair of fluffy purple socks, and her body was covered in freckles. "What?"

"NCIS Special Agent David, Ms. Nystrom, I have a few questions."

"Come in," Nyssa stood to the side and Ziva entered. "You can sit down on the sofa, I'm going to get some water. Do you want any?"

"No, thank you," Ziva walked through the entryway and into the living room to sit down on the warm brown couch. Nyssa disappeared into the kitchen for a few seconds before coming out with a glass of water.

"So, why are you here?" Nyssa asked when she sat down in the armchair.

"It's about your fiancée. She was found dead this morning."

Nyssa quickly set the glass down before she could drop it, "She was what?"

"She was found dead."

"I—how?" Nyssa's voice had gone hard with a mixture of grief and rage.

"We are still trying to decide that. Is there anything you can tell us?"

"Well, she… the idiot most likely tried to save someone," Nyssa's voice broke, betraying the grief under the loving anger. "She goes—went—on a jog every morning at about five o'clock. She took a different route every morning, but she would always mark for me which one in case something happened. Let me get the map." Nyssa stood up abruptly and retrieved a paper from the desk across the room. She sat back down and flattened it against the coffee table. "This is the route she would have taken this morning. You can take a picture if you want."

Ziva nodded and took out her phone to take a few pictures. "Thank you."

"You find the bastard that did this, you hear, Agent David? And you make them pay. Tell me when you catch them," Nyssa's voice shook. Ziva handed her her card.

"I will. I am sorry for your loss."

"You just find the asshole."

Ziva nodded and walked with Nyssa as she let her out. As the door closed she heard the crash of a fist going through a wall and then broken sobs. She left quietly.

Abby was so close to narrowing down the location, but she was also so far. The kind of grass and dirt that had been found existed in several different locations and she could not narrow down which one was the right place.

After all of the team had gotten back and shared their discovered information, Gibbs told Ziva to send the pictures of the map to Abby. He then went down to see her. "What've you got, Abbs?"

"I know several possible places that she was killed. They all have the same kind of grass and dirt, and I cannot for the life of me narrow it down!" Abby cried in frustration.

"Check your messages."

Abby looked at him in confusion but opened her messages and saw that Ziva had sent her pictures.

"Graham took a morning jog, the pictures are a map of what route she took this morning. Finish any tests and then get some sleep," Gibbs ordered.

He checked up on Ducky, who told him that he still had no idea what weapon had been used, but told them that when they found the killer they needed to be careful. Gibbs walked back up to his team and ordered them to get some sleep. He stayed to finish up paperwork, working into the night and eventually taking a cat nap at his desk.

 **Author's Note: Important!**

 **Okay, hi everybody! I swear I have this done, and will try to post more regularly. Like I told one of the wonderful reviewers, the reason I didn't update was because I didn't think anybody was reading it, so I was a little discouraged. I also got some good constructive criticism, which is nice, and I encourage anyone who finds something that could be made better to speak up about it—politely. I still reserve the right to listen to the advice but not act on it ;) :D Also, there may be errors in this, that I will accept, but I won't be able to properly revise until late June this summer. Then I will start revising and republishing the revised chapters. As always, reviews are an amazing motivation to keep going, so if you have, like, five seconds to spare I encourage you to! Bye :)**

 **—Ryan**


	4. Chapter 4

Kirk yawned for the first time. He knew that hours had passed, and it was most likely the next morning. A door opened and he blinked vigorously at the flood of light. The woman from before came in and flipped on a yellow lamp. She snapped her fingers and the two guards walked toward him. He tensed, but realized that they were taking him down. Another guard wheeled in a steel table and placed it in the middle.

The guards had gotten him down from the ceiling and out of his manacles. He struggled to get free and one of them plowed their fist into his stomach, knocking out his air and causing him to sag. They wrestled him onto the table and strapped him to it with his legs slightly spread and his arms up. He bucked and thrashed, but nothing worked. The guards took up their original positions outside after they secured the table to the floor.

Kirk craned his neck to see what the woman was doing. She was wiping down an ornate silver dagger with care. When she was done she turned to him and walked forward. "You will give me the security codes to the Enterprise."

"You're insane," Kirk spat. He began the mantra he had used yesterday. She dug the blade into his chest, opening up a long gash about half an inch deep. Another was placed on his bicep. She continued like this. By the time she had seemingly finished he was bleeding everywhere from relatively shallow cuts. They were all over his torso, arms, and chest.

"Give me the codes," she demanded.

"James T. Kirk, Captain of the Federation Starship…" he kept going as she walked over to her table of tools and grabbed a washcloth. Next she grabbed a pitcher and pulled a hose out of the wall, turning it on. The drain under Kirk's table was sucking in the water. She placed the washcloth on his face and he realized what she was going to do.

The shockingly cold water first washed off his cuts, allowing the blood to run of the table. Most of the cuts were still bleeding sluggishly. He held his breath as the water was poured over the cloth, but sputtered as it invaded his nose and mouth. It stopped and he sucked in slightly wet breaths. In the middle of breathing in the water was poured again, and he thrashed and struggled as it clogged his airways. The water boarding continued with what seemed to be no end in sight. Kirk couldn't even find the air to yell out, all he could do was writhe and buck.

Spock and the rest of the crew struggled against their restraints, and the Vulcan could feel his chains giving way little by little. He pulled even harder until a loud clank! crack! echoed through the cell. The guards came in to see what was wrong and one reached for his communicator while the other reached for his phaser. Spock quickly dispatched both of them and then broke the chains of everybody else. He grabbed a phaser and mind-melded with one of the guards. A split second passed and he looked up.

Sulu grabbed the other phaser and they all followed the Vulcan as he led them a little bit down the hall. They only encountered a few other guards, who were quickly stunned or killed. When they got to the room holding their stuff, Spock slammed the phaser down on the lock, breaking it. The door swung open with barely a tap and they all grabbed their things.

McCoy grabbed one of the extra phasers. Luckily, he had been holding his emergency med kit when they were taken. They made their way through the compound and froze when a door nearby crashed down.

Once the team arrived at the office, Abby came running up to Gibbs and handed him a slip of paper with an address of a warehouse on it. He nodded and thanked her before telling everybody to grab their gear. The warehouse was on the edge of the city. After obtaining a warrant, the team left in the car. They were all buzzing with anticipation for the arrest.

A team of other agents were covering the other entrances, just in case anyone tried to escape.

They knocked lightly on the door, identifying themselves. When no one answered Ziva kicked the door down. The team was immediately met by a group of oddly dressed people.

The Enterprise crew raised their phasers. "Identify yourselves!" Spock ordered.

The NCIS team had their guns raised. "NCIS," Gibbs responded. "Put down your guns, you're under arrest."

"Wait!" Uhura yelled before anyone could say anything they'd regret. "NCIS, you're law enforcement, right?" At the other team's nods, she smiled. "We were captured. Our Captain is down the hall, probably being tortured, please, let us get to him. We weren't the ones that did whatever it is you think we did."

"Fine, but we'll be following."

The two teams stalked down the corridors, only encountering a few guards. Since the Enterprise crew was in front they were the ones that dispatched them with their phasers on stun. The sight they were met with when they got to the room that Kirk was being held in was not a pretty one. Before the woman registered that they were there Spock had shot her with the phaser. Her hands had been squeezing the Captain's throat.

McCoy growled and ran forward, checking his pulse and his breathing. His pulse was slow and fading, but he wasn't breathing. "Dammit! Spock, you've got the compressions!"

Spock nodded and climbed onto the table so that he was in a sort of hover straddle. He positioned his hands and pushed down, counting, "One, two, three, four…."

Upon reaching thirty he stopped for a second and McCoy breathed for Jim twice. The compressions started again. Scotty and Chekov, careful not to get in the way, had begun to undo the restraints. Spock and McCoy had been doing CPR for five and a half minutes before their Captain inhaled a giant breath and began choking. McCoy was quick to turn him over on his side as he coughed up water.

"Dammit, Jim. You need to stop doing this! I'm gonna die from stress before reaching forty!" McCoy snapped.

"Bones?" Kirk gasped. He coughed out some more water before responding. "What're you…"

"We managed to 'break out', Captain," Spock responded.

"Good, good. Help me sit up," Kirk leaned on his elbows and attempted to push himself up, but McCoy gently pushed him down.

"I need to look at those cuts first, Jim." He ruffled around in his bag before pulling out his own regenerator. He ran it over the Captain a few times, allowing the gashes to heal and leave behind shallow, scabbed cuts. "Your body doesn't have enough energy to heal anymore for now."

"Dammit, I hate dying," Kirk groaned.

"What the hell is that!" McGee gasped. The starship crew had forgotten they were there.

Kirk looked at the team, which was staring at them as though they had grown two heads.

"And why the hell are his ears pointed?" Tony asked.

"What planet are we on?" Uhura asked.

"Earth, what other planet is there that supports life?"

"Alright, before we get any further, why don't we introduce ourselves. I'm Captain James T. Kirk. This is Commander Spock, Ensign Chekov, Lieutenants Sulu and Uhura, Lieutenant Commander Scott and Doctor McCoy. In order, we have my First/Science Officer, my navigator, my helmsman, my communications officer, my chief engineer, and my chief medical officer. Who are you people?"

"NCIS Special Agents Gibbs, DiNozzo, David, and McGee. Why don't you come with us and answer a few questions after we call an ambulance for you, Captain?" Gibbs responded.

"No ambulances. Bones—that is to say, McCoy—can take care of me just fine. Besides, he's the only one that knows all of my allergies."

"Yeah, Jim, 'cause you're allergic to what seems like half the things in the galaxy. It's a miracle you've lasted this long," McCoy grouched.

"Still, I insist that you come to the base and answer questions. My ME can help you take care of him there." Gibbs would not take no for an answer.

"Fine, but before we go I'd like you to answer me this one question: what's the current stardate?" Kirk asked.

"The current what now?" Tony had his eyebrows up.

"The date, you idiot," McCoy grumbled.

"August twenty-first, two thousand nine," McGee responded.

"Two thousand-" McCoy sputtered. He turned to Kirk, "Two thousand nine, Jim!"

"Don't look at me! It isn't my fault!" Kirk pouted.

"With your luck, I wouldn't doubt that it is!" McCoy snapped. "Honestly, Jim, you're unluckier than a pitch black cat!"

"Why don't we finish this in the car?" Tony interrupted. McCoy pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Fine, let's go."

"Excuse me, but who's the Captain here?" Jim asked childishly.

"I'm your CMO and you were just tortured, I have more command over you than you do, at the moment," McCoy smirked. Kirk began to sit up and Bones moved to help, but was waved away.

"I've got it, Bones," he muttered, standing up.

"That may be, but you don't have to," McCoy grumbled, tossing one of Jim's arms around his neck. "Now, let's get this show on the road, shall we?" The NCIS team nodded and led them out to the thankfully larger car.

Gibbs was speaking into his walkie-talkie, "Possible hostages have been recovered. Take the suspects back to HQ and place in separate interrogation rooms, keep eyes on them at all times. And have a few people stay behind to collect evidence." The van was cramped, but they managed to fit everyone.

"While we drive, why don't you answer a few questions?" Ziva prompted.

"They can, but I need to see exactly what happened to this idiot," McCoy refuted.

"That's Captain Idiot to you," Kirk grinned but winced when they went over a pothole, coughing up a lung. Bones held his back and rubbed circles on it. The rest of the Enterprise crew watched in concern and frustration that they could do nothing.

"What. Happened," McCoy growled.

"Umm... Well, the first day I was strung up and I think I got like... thirty-ish lashes from this really weird kind of whip. It was split up into multiple parts with these little barbs at the end. After she was done with that she threw a knife at my leg. It didn't hit anything really important, though, just some muscles."

"Who's the doctor here?" McCoy questioned.

The NCIS team was listening in concern and confusion as the Captain recounted everything as though it was a usual Friday and Saturday.

"Meh, I know where all of my important stuff is. I'm trained in emergency triage, remember?" Kirk reminded.

"For others, maybe," Uhura grinned slightly. "But we all know you have the self-preservation of an ant."

"It was a mayfly, thank you very much. Anyway, I have self-preservation, it's just that most of the time other things take precedence. Getting back to Bones' original question, though. Sometime after the woman, I think her name was something like Aardvark," Kirk purposely messed up her name, "left, this person in a bright yellow Pikachu hoodie came in with a dermal regenerator and healed me like, three quarters of the way. I stayed up the whole night on watch. Next morning I was taken down from the ceiling and strapped to that table. Aardvark did this really bastardized version of lingchi, I think. So I'm not missing any body parts, but it was a slow bleeding out thing. When that didn't work she moved onto waterboarding with this freezing cold water. After she heard all the commotion she strangled me."

"You never do anything halfway, do ya, lad?" Scotty asked.

"Should he not go to a hospital, then?" Ziva asked.

"No doctors. I don't trust them. Aside from Bones here. Anyway, they'd probably wind up killing me faster, with my screwy immune system," Kirk shook his head firmly.

"You're still going to be checked out by our Medical Examiner. I don't care if you don't like doctors. Dr. McCoy can be with you," Gibbs said from the driver's seat.

"Fine," Kirk pouted. "Anyway, on a basic rundown I'd say a slightly bruised trachea, some cracked and some fractured ribs from the CPR, multiple scabs from lacerations—some of which cracked and are bleeding again, from all the thrashing, and I may be in trouble of pneumonia from the waterboarding. Oh, and strained shoulders from hanging from the ceiling. Overall, not the worst I've had. And, aside from the waterboarding stint I'm dehydrated."

"Captain, I believe that you also have not had proper sustenance in approximately three days, two hours, sixteen minutes and twenty-seven seconds," Spock added.

"Ah, yes, thank you, Mr. Spock. There's also that fact."

Tony looked back at them in bewilderment, "What! How the heck can someone be that precise? And, more importantly, how can you not realize that you haven't eaten?"

"It's Spock, he's always that precise. As for the eating, I'm used to going a long time without it. I have a screwy appetite. I either go days without eating or I eat like there won't be anything left the next day," Kirk shrugged.

Any further conversation was interrupted by Gibbs saying they were there. McCoy had Kirk lean on him as they got out of the car and walked toward the building. The rag-tag group met several odd stares, especially the shirtless captain with signs of torture. When they all got up to the main room where their desks were, they were met with the sight of Vance. "What the hell is this, Gibbs?"

"Explain later, they need to get checked out," Gibbs said shortly. Vance followed them on their way down to the ME's lab. Ducky looked at the group that had entered and his eyebrows shot up.

"Well, it looks like there should be a rather interesting story that goes with this. Let's hear it while I look at you all."

"If you don't mind, I'm looking at Jim," McCoy said.

"If you are a doctor, then I believe that will be acceptable."

"He's the best damn doctor I've got," Kirk said proudly.

"Sit down you infant and let me check you out."

"Why, Bones! At least let me take you to dinner first," Kirk grinned.

"Oh, shut up."

Ducky turned to the others, "The rest of you may take a seat and allow myself and Doctor Palmer to examine you."

After everyone had gotten situated, Vance looked at everyone expectedly. "I would like to be told what in the hell is going on, Now."

"Our case led us to a warehouse. The people we interviewed about the Lieutenant all said she most likely died trying to help someone. Upon arrival at the warehouse we met up with this group, aside from the shirtless man over there, who were apparently in the midst of breaking jail," Ziva started.

"Jailbreak," Tony corrected. "They were in the middle of a jailbreak and we helped them. They said that their captain, the man over there, was in a separate cell most likely being tortured, so we went to keep an eye on them and help."

"When we got there the woman that is being escorted by a few of the agents over here was strangling the captain. She was shot down and those two," McGee motioned to Spock and McCoy, "began CPR. After about five and a half minutes the captain started breathing again and we left to head back here."

Vance looked at the group. Kirk introduced himself and the rest of the crew. "We... well, Spock, help me out here, what exactly am I allowed to say?"

Spock looked like he was pondering the question before saying, "I do not exactly know. Though I believe that it may not be illogical to tell them…most everything."

"Not like anyone'll believe 'em, anyway," McCoy snorted from his position over Kirk, rifling through his med-bag.

"Excuse me," Vance interjected. Kirk blinked.

"Right, well, we're from the future," Kirk deadpanned.

"Dr. Mallard, run psych evals—" The director began.

"No need. I know I may not have all my screws iron tight, but this I'm sure of. The time I come from was 2260. That thing that your team saw used on me to mostly heal my lacerations was something called a dermal regenerator, which basically knits the skin back together," Kirk promised. "The weapons that my crew used were something called phasers, we don't use guns anymore."

"So we've got a little Back to the Future scenario happening then?" Tony was grinning like a little kid.

"Something like that," Kirk agreed. The other members of his crew looked at each other in confusion. Bones snorted in amusement. At the odd looks his crew was shooting him Kirk got playfully defensive, "What? I like the classics."

McGee looked curious, pulled out his phone, and texted Abby. "I told Abby to get over here, she's going to want to be here. Also, is that why you asked what planet this was?"

Sulu nodded. Abby burst through the doors. "You said aliens, I got here as soon as I could. You'd better not be lying to me, Tim." She narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"To be fair, only Spock is an alien. The rest of us are human. Five fingers, flat foreheads, rounded ears, red blood, and all," Kirk smiled at the forensics girl.

"Is that why his ears are pointed and his eyebrows are shaped funky?" Tony asked, pointing at Spock.

"That is correct, I am a Vulcan."

Abby squealed, "So cool!"

McCoy had finished wrapping Kirk's ribs and bandaging his back. He wrapped bandages around his wrists and ankles, which had been irritated from being rubbed against the manacles and pulled against whenever he thrashed. He pulled something black out from his kit and handed it to the captain, "Here's a shirt, Jim." He looked up and was met with stares from the NCIS team. "What? The idiot loses shirts all the time, I've learned to have an extra on hand. I have one of the basic blacks and one of his command shirt pullovers."

Kirk nodded, "It's true. The universe has something against my shirts."

"Sir, I beliewe ze uniwerse has somesing against you," Chekov chuckled. He and the rest of the team were also receiving aid in the form of bandages on their wrists.

"Well, yes, that's true too."

"What do you mean?" Tony asked.

"Every. Single. Time I beam down for an away mission something happens. And it's never good, either. I think the most memorable one was when I beamed down with Sulu, Uhura, and Spock for a simple diplomatic treaty to establish trade, wound up being accused of sexual harassment to cover up the fact that I had stumbled upon an assassination plot by the Prime Minister, and subsequently sentenced to death by burial with Spock. Uhura and Sulu helped us get out and I ran into the princess's room—the one they were attempting to assassinate—just in time to take an arrow to the abdomen for her and receive knighthood for my troubles."

"Oh, you poor thing!" Abby cried and ran forward, gently hugging him because of his ribs. He froze in slight shock before relaxing. The rest of the NCIS team was in slight shock from the information overload.

"So that's what you meant when you said it wasn't the worst you've had," McGee concluded, realizing that if something had managed to go that spectacularly wrong on one mission and it had a habit of going that wrong, he probably had been through worse.

"I think the worst I've had is dying from radiation poisoning," Kirk said. He paused and put a finger up to his chin, "Actually, no, it was all of the revenge hyposprays Bones used after the fact."

"That'll teach you to die on us again." McCoy finished putting everything back in his bag. "Although, for dying again..." He fished out a hypospray and jammed it into his friend's neck.

Kirks hand immediately went to his neck and the Naval team stepped forward with their hands on their weapons. "Ah, dammit Bones! Can't you be more gentle!" He whined.

McCoy noticed how tense the other team had gone and smirked, "Painkiller," he said by way of explanation, "It's probably the only one he isn't allergic to. I just like getting payback by being less than gentle. It's supposed to stop him from doing stupid stuff like this, but so far it hasn't been working as well as I'd like."

"I hate you," Kirk grumbled.

"Toughen up, Captain. It's just a hypo," Uhura grinned. Jim stuck his tongue out.

"I'm plenty tough, thank you very much. In fact, I'm the toughest tough there ever was to be tough," Kirk spoke in Klingon.

"If you say so," She responded in Ferengi.

Vance pinched the bridge of his nose. "English, please."

Kirk smiled sheepishly, "Sorry." He jumped off the table.

"Dammit, Jim! You need to sit down!" McCoy snapped.

"I'm fine. I—" whatever he was going to say next was interrupted by the beep of a communicator. They all checked theirs and saw nothing, except for McCoy, who also looked at the communicator from their captors.

"Jim, it seems like they weren't the only base."

"Lemme see that," Kirk grabbed it. He scowled. "What the hell! I am not giving them security codes! My gods, they're idiots. Chekov, catch," he tossed it to the young Navigator, "See if you and Scotty can pinpoint where that was sent from." His voice had taken on the 'Captain Voice' as his crew like to call it. They all snapped to attention. "And Scotty, after you've finished with that, attempt to establish communications with Starfleet—do your best to get in contact with Pike, but Archer and Barnett are fine too. Just make sure you don't get Her Majesty," he chuckled dryly. "Or Komack," he added as an afterthought.

"Aye, Keptin," Chekov nodded.

"Aye, Cap'n. Though, need I remind ya that Archer doesnae take too kin' ta me after wha' happened with 'is beagle."

"Understood, Scotty. Gibbs, was it?" At the Special Agent's nod he smiled, "If you don't mind, Spock and I are going to help with the interrogation of Aardvark. She's a trained interrogator, she won't let anything slip that she doesn't mean to, but I have an idea of how to do it."

Before Gibbs could protest, Vance sighed, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but do it."

"Jim, you need rest," McCoy protested.

"I can rest when we're back in the proper time period, Bones. You've got Ducky, help him with the body and see if you can tell anything. Then make sure you have all of your stuff on standby."

The doctor nodded, "Always do, Jim."

Kirk nodded, "Good. Sulu, you help Uhura attempt to reach the Enterprise, I want them to be ready to warp back and beam us on to leave, but only at my signal."

"Aye, Captain," Sulu nodded.

"Uhura and… Sulu, was it? You two can use MTAC. I'll show it to you." Vance turned around, obviously intending them to follow him. The two looked at their captain and at his nod of assent followed the director.

Kirk turned to Gibbs, "Let's get this party started."

 **Alright, I haven't updated in forever and I apolgize because I should be updating since I have the story done, but life got in the way and I haven't had time to do rewriting like I want to. I'll try to update regularly. However, I will say that the story itself is somewhat gratuitous with the amount of whump thaf Kirk goes through, but that's the kind of writer I am. There's also kind of a reason to it so? Anyway, what I'll be publishing hasn't been rewritten and is fhe original draft, so I'm sorry if it's kinda cringy. Also, I have no betas, so if anybody wants to do that, that would be great.**


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